Crossing The River

Two monks, Tanzan and a younger monk, were walking down a muddy street in the city. They came on a lovely young girl dressed in fine silks, who was afraid to cross because of all the mud.

“Come on, girl,” said Tanzan. And he picked her up in his arms, and carried her across.

The two monks did not speak again till nightfall. Then, when they had returned to the monastery, the young monk couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Monks are not suppose to go near young girls,” he said “certainly not beautiful ones like that one! Why did you do it?”

“My dear fellow,” said Tanzan. “I put that girl down back in the city. It’s you who are still carrying her.”

For the young monk, and for many of us, crossing the river can be the hardest task that we ever face. We find it exceedingly difficult to put something down, or to allow a difficult task to be in the past. Like the young monk we carry the burden far past the decision.